One of Those Days
by Late to the Party
Summary: In a twist of fate, certain events unfold differently and without their impact choices that would have been made are no longer made. In this AU, Charname meets an unlikely pairing that others are fortunate enough never to encounter. One-shot.
1. One of Those Days

**A/N: I don't own intellectual property associated with Baldur's Gate, yadda yadda, at least not yet. Maybe one day. Then I can remove these disclaimers.  
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It was just one of those days. Kharnaim [pronounced 'Chār'nämé'] found himself summoned to a meeting at a hall supposedly belonging to the Harpers, and naturally Jaheira insisted on coming along, which was all well and good because having her around to watch his back, head, feet, pretty much all of him, was something he was so entirely used to it felt strange when she wasn't there. And that in itself was odd, but it had been that way since the Friendly Arm Inn… sort of. Which was to say they did have a parting of ways for a few days when her Harper friends called her away, leaving him with Khalid, but they reconvened soon enough and everything went back to normal. As normal as anything in Athkatla, city of coin, could be, that was.

Having hurried to Nashkel all those months ago, only to receive word that a high profile murder in some trading company within Baldur's Gate had occurred, he, Khalid, Jaheira, Skie and Eldoth, the latter pair he had met in the Friendly Arm Inn just after meeting Khalid and Jaheira, they quit the region and headed south towards Amn where fortunes, glories, and adventure awaited, or so Eldoth boasted.

Once they were out of the frontier mining town of Nashkel, they found themselves at the tender mercies of the Cloudpeak Mountains, the flurries and squalls, and their passage through the pass was even more hurried than the road from the Friendly Arm, through the town of Beregost, to Nashkel. But unlike the road to Nashkel, the way to Athkatla held few bandits, fewer troubles, and a few fur cloaks made for a snug and warm barrier against the snows. Those same cloaks became a huge burden as soon as they were through, so following Eldoth flamboyance, they cut them up and spruced up their hats. Well, Skie did anyway; no one else had. They'd simply traded their cloaks for lighter clothing at the nearest trade station.

It hadn't taken Skie long to throw a tantrum and shortly after, the inevitable occurred. Eldoth, having long since tired of the girl whom he claimed to love, simply took off one night, to no one's surprise and everyone's relief, except Skie's, who was at once, broken hearted and also over it. Left saddled with the girl, Jaheira's patience waned greatly but she refused to pack her onto a ship and send her home on account of the numerous slavers within the city. Besides, there were still bandits and strife within Baldur's Gate. Instead, Khalid had gently suggested that perhaps Skie might have family friends within Athkatla, to which her eyes lit up and off they went. That was a tenday ago.

Since then, the other friends he had made consisted of a gnarly old dwarven mercenary, and two unlikely characters who went by the names of Nalia de'Arnise and Anomen Delryn, both apparently privileged by birth and bearing the lofty and exclusive claim to belonging to the aristocracy. That was where their advantage ended: with a name. The Delryn family were amongst the least of their brethren, impoverished and lacking in lands, while the de'Arnise estate had fallen on hard times and Nalia was reduced to seeking mercenaries to guard her ancestral grounds. The pay was modest, but work that included room, board, meals, and coin was not to be turned down while one was figuring out what to do and where to go. Indeed, Kharnaim was even able to wrangle out a deal where he and his 'band' served as Nalia's bodyguards while she traipsed through the lower streets in her quest for sellswords.

It was in that same tavern that he met 'Squire Delryn', and the dwarf Korgan, and all it had taken was a small conversation over ale and they had joined up. Although, to be fair, Korgan had little better to do and his purse was running low, while 'Squire Delryn' was desperate to prove himself and earn his place amongst his 'brother knights' of this or that order that he was supposedly a part of.

Nalia and Anomen proved an unlikely pair. They became even less likely as the days went by, bickering with each other; his condescension over her 'slumming', her biting remarks over the length of his squireship, or whatever they called the squiring process. Anomen returned that the Art was nothing in comparison to the might of the gods; Nalia retorted that he was nothing more than a slave, a servant, bound to the whim of his divine lord, and that she, as a mage, relied on her own strength and power. Before anyone could point out that she had hired bodyguards, Korgan had slammed his tankard down, which somehow followed him around regardless of where they were, and the gruff old dwarf told them to find a hayloft and get on with it. Both of them turned scarlet, the twin blooms of pink bursting into vibrant red as the pair looked anywhere except at each other, their mouths hanging open then snapping shut.

Perhaps it was as well Jaheira wasn't there for that. It was certainly best Khalid and Skie weren't. In fact, it was probably better than Anomen, Nalia and Korgan, had yet to meet Skie. But that was another problem for another day. Leaving a message at the tavern for Jaheira vexed her greatly, but if she was going to wander off, she could hardly blame him for occupying his time. At least, that's what he naively hoped. At least there were no lectures on frequently brothels and the denizens that abided within. The journey to the Harper hall would be long indeed.


	2. Another Day

As it turned out, the Harper Hall was nothing compared to the wrathful irksomeness demonstrated by Nalia and Anomen upon his return. Their belaboured cries denouncing the dwarf ranged from 'not my keeper' to 'I don't need a babysitter!' to all manner of nonsense that Kharnaim simply tuned out. Two tendays within the Harper Hall had translated to an eternity for the outside world and Korgan, having lost all sense and reason, dragged the pair to the nearest temple and somehow vows were exchanged.

Oh, there was something about 'convenience' and 'advantage' and 'family lands under threat', 'scandal', along with thinly veiled threats of 'yer worse than a prissy elf', and something about 'pretty boy' and tanning hides, numerous other cusses and some very sullen, red-faces from Nalia and Anomen.

Worse was to come when 'Aunt Delcia' and 'Lord Cor' met together and the rows that followed saw all of them quit the grand hall. Kharnaim wasn't sure which of them had left first: Korgan or Jaheira. Khalid remained with Skie, and notes occasionally reached them, and the bickering between Anomen and Nalia ebbed, flowed, and stopped abruptly each time Korgan cracked his knuckles.

Kharnaim shrugged to himself. There were worse reasons to wed, he supposed. The scandal was rife, but word about the assassin of Rieltar Anchev's son being caught and hanged back in Baldur's Gate seemed to be more prevalent. Those just below Nalia's circle, from what he gleaned, were both outraged at such an attack could occur but also disgusted that Rieltar was weak enough to let it happen. The half elf they strung up had no apparent reason for the murder, but the name 'Illasera' would die within a tenday. No one would remember either of them, that much was certain.

And so, the days went on.


	3. One of -THOSE- Days

In the Copper Coronet there were fighting pits, gladiatorial bouts, cockfighting, along with other dubious pleasures that were entirely dependent on the amount of coin one had. Such pursuits were widely denounced by Jaheira, and Khalid would probably have offered some firm words had he been present, but Kharnaim made it a point not to enter such places in their company. However, nothing in the Coronet could begin to compare to the endless feuding between 'Aunt Delcie' and 'Lord Cor'. Indeed, the de'Arnise cellars would soon run dry, or, as 'Aunt Delcie' declared, the man would drink himself to death – and if he did, it would be a price worth paying if it cost them three cellars' worth. The rejoinder, when it thundered, was something about 'cobwebs', 'musty, dry halls' and Kharnaim didn't stick around for the rest.

The tenday took a dark turn when one of the Delryn servants, Terl, relayed news that Moira, the only daughter of Lord Cor, sister to Anomen, had been unjustly slain, murdered.

Who could blame Anomen for losing all sanity and reason? Indeed, the only person who Anomen listened to was a certain dwarf, who stood side by side with him as they kicked down the door to his sister's killer's abode and there enacted the 'justice' the authorities refused to mete out. Anomen's precious order cast him out, but it was the edge of a dwarven axe that supported him over those next dark days. Grief and terrible despair claimed Anomen with the news of his sister's demise; avenging her brought him no peace but only a grim satisfaction in knowing that no one else's sister, daughter, mother, or the like would suffer at the hands of her killer.

It was a tipping point, and Aunt Delcia banished him from the de'Arnise keep. Nalia had remained oddly quiet throughout but it marked a shift in their 'marriage' and from that day forth, she walked closer in step towards her lord, the ex-squire. It was Korgan who continued to school them both in the reality of battle, rather than the lofty arts of war preached from the tomes of the Order of the Radiant Hart. It was Korgan who cuffed and clipped their ears, gruffly barking commands, until the day that Anomen and Nalia both stood their ground, both had their backs, each as equals.

Somewhere in that time, Khalid and Jaheira grew ever more distant, venturing further afield to the nearby town of Tradesmeet and beyond. But that was okay too, because even as Kharnaim ventured with them, he also found himself remaining. As everyone continued to push in different directions, the only constant was the icy silence from Aunt Delcia and Lord Cor. Words had given way to nothingness, the wine claiming more and more of the old man, and the old woman had simply given up, having no audience for her cutting remarks. Nalia and Anomen spent less and less time within the de'Arnise keep and the whole castle became something of a neglected ruin, the coffers too low to maintain the estate. It was in the little things, almost unnoticeable details, details that Kharnaim himself barely registered until he noted the leaky roof, the lack of the foresters' huts, the wooden railings that hadn't been repainted, the creaky gate, and most of all, the reduction in servants. Only the oldest and most loyal remained. Even the halls seemed to breathe with dust, mustiness, rot, and they just had a haggard look. Somewhat like Candlekeep, only without the tomes.

Well, Kharnaim had other things to do and with his comrades toing and froing, the Harpers being meddlesome, and Skie somewhere…? Who knew where Skie had got to? Well, he was sure she'd show up. Probably frolicking after another bard in some seedy tavern in the Bride District; maybe he should visit the theatre there sometime. But really, there just wasn't that much to do. In fact, there was so little to do that he decided that he would venture into the circus and see if there was anything there worth seeing. After all, it was just one of those days. What could possibly go wrong?

_Fin_


End file.
